


vanilla pudding cups

by cloudywriter



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Inspired by The Fault in Our Stars, Mentions of Cancer, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, im sorry in advance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:07:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26446096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudywriter/pseuds/cloudywriter
Summary: Feyre Archeron has spent the last year living in a hospital room feeling more alone with every passing day. That is until a new boy takes up residence in the room across from her own and a relationship blossoms.(i'm so bad at summaries but uhh read it if you want)
Relationships: Eventually Minor Nesta Archeron/Cassian, Feyre Archeron & Rhysand, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand
Comments: 19
Kudos: 80





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> heyyyy, so i've been wanting to start a multichapter feysand fanfic for a while but school takes up a lot of my time so honestly im not sure how often i will be able to update. i haven't written long fanfics since like 6th grade when i wrote religiously on wattpad (i don't wanna talk it). i have like two other mini stories & both are on my tumblr @cloudywriter!! anyway this fic is ~inspired~ by the fault in our stars but minus the whole two sick people falling in love it wont follow the story line. lowkey, i haven't planned it out completely yet so i'm not sure what direction it'll go in, might be heartbreaking xoxo. also fair warning i am not a doctor so if some things are kinda wrong ignore that luv.

Feyre leaned back sitting atop an itchy knitted blue blanket, various crumbled up sketches were scattered around her, littering the bed’s surface. She huffed as she once again ripped a soiled page out of her sketchbook. 

She had been trying to draw her sisters from memory for the last hour but it had been so long since she had last seen them that she couldn’t get their noses quite right. She couldn’t blame them, they had their own lives, both attending Mort University; they didn’t have time in their schedules to pay her a visit that often. Feyre tried her best to not let that bitter feeling overcome her. She threw her notebook on the side table and fell back against the flat pillows.

The door to her room creaked open with a gentle knock. Nurse Alis breezed in, carrying a cup of water and pills in a small plastic cup. Feyre had hit the call button a few minutes ago complaining of nausea. 

“Here you are, dear.”

Feyre gave Alis a small smile and took the cups, throwing her head back and swallowing the contents of both. Truly, after so many years, Feyre could swallow multiple pills dry. 

“How are you feeling today?” Alis asked, sitting on the edge of Feyre’s bed.

Feyre shrugged, leaning back once again. “Nauseous, lonely, almost like I’ve been dying alone in a hospital room for the last six months.”

Alis gave Feyre a pointed look. “You know that’s not funny.”

Feyre only shrugged once again and stared at the wall behind Alis’s head. Alis gave her a small smile and patted her knee before making her way out the door. Over the months Feyre had spent in this room the walls had become covered in sketches, posters, and records, the windows one that looked out into the hallway and one into the outside world were covered with thick curtains embroidered with flowers. Her sister, Elain, put them up when the doctors advised that Feyre have an extended stay at the hospital, likely she would be here until the cancer took her for good. 

She slowly got out of bed and made her way over to the window that overlooked the river. She sat down, crossing her legs and pressed her forehead to the glass. She peered down at the people milling about, some walking on the trails, some pushing family members in wheelchairs clad in hospital gowns, a few sitting on benches with sandwiches in their hands. 

She tried to imagine that it was her down there on the bench with her sisters, all eating lunch together or that it was Lucien and her racing down the trails. He would visit her every once in a while even after Tamlin dumped her because having a dying girlfriend is ‘no fun’. But Feyre was utterly alone.

Instead of allowing herself to brood she decided to make her way back to her bed and wrap herself in a cocoon of blankets. Sleep, her one escape, took her shortly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope y'all had a riveting monday i know i did not. anyway, okay, uh i had the wisp sings on repeat while i wrote the end of the chapter if you can't tell lol.

Rhysand sat in the sterile waiting room of the hospital trying to rub the sweat off his hands onto his jeans. Next to him were his brothers, Cassian and Azriel, along with his cousin, Mor. Cassian was currently making suggestive faces at some nurse, Mor had her nose in a magazine, and Az was tapping away on his phone. 

They always showed up to Rhys’ appointments whether he wanted them to or not, but usually he appreciated their support. Today though, Rhys wasn’t sure if he wanted them there. He loves them each so much but if his results came back and weren’t hopeful, it might just be too much. 

He didn’t want to have to see that kind of devastation in their faces, he didn’t want them to see it in himself either. Yes, he was the sick one but so often he found himself being the strong one for everyone else, acting as if the idea that his life might be over before it truly started wasn’t absolutely terrifying as to not put them in a state of sorrow. 

It was only a year ago that Rhysand was in this same waiting room with Mor by his side, she had forced him to go after he had been complaining that this one spot on his right lower back was constantly aching. 

The doctor insisted on doing an ultrasound, then wouldn’t say a word and ordered a CT scan. The next day they received a call to come back immediately and that was when they got the prognosis. 

Kidney cancer. Stage 2. 

The next few days had been a blur of poking and prodding, honestly he can’t recall much from those days he was so overwhelmed his mind struggled to keep up with the world around him. He couldn’t quite comprehend just what the hell was happening.

He remembers the tears though. He remembers Mor putting her head in her hands and sobbing. Even Cassian and Azriel cried. Hell, Amren shed some tears. And it broke his heart. 

The only saving grace was his doctor was confident that with surgery and some immunotherapy after that Rhys would be okay.  
By the end of it he was virtually cancer free and here he is a year later to get a routine CT scan to make sure nothing has progressed further. 

“Rhysand Moon.”

A nurse with brown curly hair called from the doorway, her hip holding open the door with a clipboard in hand. I looked up and felt all of my companions' attention shift to me. Mor gave me a pat on the knee while Cas and Az gave me small, reassuring smiles. 

I approached the nurse and she gave me a smile, “I’m Alis, follow me.”

She led me a few doors down and then opened a basic room that housed the usual equipment, folded neatly on top of the examination table was a hospital gown. 

“Alright, if you could just change into that real quick I’ll be back in about 5 minutes to get you. I suppose you don’t need the normal pep talk, huh?”

I gave her the most genuine smile I could muster. “No, I know the drill, thank you.” 

She nodded her head and let the door fall shut behind her. 

Alis returned as she said and took me down to radiology. Now, I just had to lie completely still with nothing to accompany me but my own thoughts. 

\---

Rhysand was back where he was a year ago, same room even. 

Silent tears carved a path down Mor’s cheeks. Azriel had his head in his hands. Cassian just started at the doctor looking utterly broken. Amren had shown up some time during his appointment and was leaning against the wall in the corner of the room looking far away. 

Rhysand wasn’t sure what he looked like. Maybe he was a mix of them, he did not cry, it was too much to even fathom tears at that moment. He likely looked defeated. He felt defeated in every sense of the word. 

They’d waited a few hours for the results of his scan which ended up being grim. Most people would probably go into this kind of scenario thinking the worst automatically but Rhysand hadn’t. He’d been so happy these last few months, feeling lighter than he had in years. He’d survived the prospect of death and had found renewed motivation to live his life without regrets, to live everyday as if it would be his last. 

But here he was again, the same prospect hanging in the air. The cancer was back, and it had metastasized to his liver too. 

The day turned into a blur as it had last time and he found himself back in a hospital room, this time it was his own. They had decided it was best for him to stay a few days as they accessed the situation, see just how bad it was. 

At some point, Mor, Cassian, Azriel, and Amren all had to leave at 8pm as visiting hours came to a close. They had stayed with him the entire day, but after his results they’d stopped cracking jokes or playing rock, paper, scissors; instead they sat around Rhys in silent support until Nurse Alis escorted them out. 

Nurse Alis made her way back into the room.

“Are you alright, dear?” She asked sweetly. 

Rhys looked up at her, the tears finally finding their way to the surface. She gave him a knowing nod and held out her arms, a silent offer. Rhys let her hug him and she pulled away soon after.

“It’s okay to be scared, but don’t forget that you’re strong and you’ve beaten this once before. You have so many people rooting for you.”

Rhys only gave a half-hearted nod in response. He knew his family was there for him, that they loved him, but they didn’t truly understand. It’s one thing to watch a dying person, it’s another to be them. 

“When you’re feeling up for it, Rhysand, there’s someone I think you should meet,” Alis added softly. 

“Thank you, but not right now.”

“Alright, take your time and tell me when. Now, try to get some sleep and press your call button if you need absolutely anything, even if it’s just a friendly face, okay?”

Rhysand looked back at her, “okay.”

The door clicked behind her and Rhysand was alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you liked this chapter, it wasn't as long as i wanted but i think its a good brief intro to rhys. i got pretty far with planning the course this fic will take and its so cute, i'm so excited. also again sorry for anything that isn't medically accurate but this is a fic not an oncology course ok don't @ me, luv ya. also rhys and feyre will meet in the next chapter i swear.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys!! i changed the nameeee i'm sorry about that but i really was not feeling the other name at all. this fits much better and you'll figure out the significance soon! this probably isn't the best chapter ever, but i wanted to get it out because people were enjoying it & i'm a people pleaser ya know. so enjoy luvs

Feyre woke up with a surprising amount of energy, usually she felt fatigued and spent most of her days lounging in her bed with earbuds in and a sketchbook laying in her lap. She decided she would use this new found energy to tape up her accumulating pile of various sketches she wanted up on her wall.

She threw on a pair of loose, grey sweatpants and white t-shirt, stained with her attempts at using charcoal, soon setting out on her voyage to acquire a ladder.

Surprisingly, it was an easy task. All she had to do was sweet talk the maintenance guy a little bit, throw in the whole I have cancer and she had a ladder leaning against her wall in no time. 

\--

Rhys, however, had a less pleasant start to the day. Alis had let herself in that morning with a plate in one hand and the same clipboard in another. 

She informed him that unfortunately his day would consist mostly of testing and scans to determine just how bad it was. She left Rhysand to get ready and eat his breakfast of rubbery, bland tasting eggs and one of those nasty little plastic cups of mixed fruit. 

As the day went on, Rhys lost count of how many needles punctured his skin and how many cups of contrast solution he had to gulp for his scans.

Finally, he fell back into bed later in the evening feeling drained, though he had barely lifted a finger. But the mass amount of poking and prodding he endured only cemented in his mind that he was truly right back where he started a year ago. The realization was mind-numbing. 

He hadn’t even called Mor, Cassian, Az, or Amren to ask for their support. He didn’t feel like he had had the time to truly mourn the life that had become his over the last few months, the life he was losing. He needed a moment, when he got a moment he would let himself fall apart. For only a moment before he would have to put back on the mask of the Rhys his family had come to know. The Rhys that wasn’t afraid of death, the Rhys that still had faith that he could make it, that this new battle wasn’t a lost cause.

In truth, Rhysand was terrified of the idea of death, of leaving them behind. To think of the lives they would live without him was like a punch to the stomach, the kind that leaves you sprawled on the ground struggling to suck in air. 

Just as his mask began to crack, just as the tears began to prick his eyes, as the sinking feeling in his stomach intensified, and the air felt heavy, too thick to breathe properly, the faint sound of a violin captured his attention. It was a small tether keeping him anchored to reality and he felt the pull. 

Before he could fully comprehend what he was doing, he had slipped out of his door and was outside of another; the one that was undoubtedly the source of the violin. 

It felt as if he was watching himself in a dream as he pushed open the door. 

And there she was.

A nostalgic feeling as if he were reliving a fever dream took root. A girl was sitting atop a metal ladder. The setting sun sent light streaming in through the floor to ceiling window, illuminating her; her long, honey-colored hair was glowing gold. Her skin was pale, without any hint of a tan but her arms were dotted with faint freckles as if she had once spent all of her days basking in the sun. Strips of tape lined her fingers and she held the dispenser between her teeth, her free hand holding a piece of paper to the wall. 

Rhys found himself staring at her rather than making his presence known. The combined sound of soothing classic music emitting from a laptop on the bed and her sun-lit silhouette had him mesmerized. She honestly looked like an angel in the flesh, if angels wore sweat pants and oversized, charcoal stained t-shirts that is.

As soon as Rhys started to regain his wits a screech came from behind him. 

“FEYRE ARCHERON, GET DOWN FROM THERE!”

Rhys and the girl, Feyre, both spun to face Nurse Alis who stood in the threshold. 

He heard the ladder groan behind him, the patter of bare-feet on tile, and the warmth of a body came to rest next to him. 

His head pivoted to look at her to find she was already examining him herself. 

She looked him up and down then met his gaze. Her eyes were vivid, so blue with a ring of grey around the pupil and they were so full of life. The same soft freckles that decorated her arms danced across the bridge of her nose. Her left cheek had a smear of charcoal across it. A small smile came to her lips as their eyes meet. He thought she really was an angel.

“Feyre, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

She broke eye contact, “I’m hanging up some of my sketches.” 

“Using a ladder? Alone? You could fall and crack your head open! And I’m your assigned nurse! They’d blame me and then I’d have to scrap your brains off the floor while looking for a new job!” Alis cried, eyes wide. 

“I guess that sounds like a less than pleasant afternoon for you,” Feyre considered.

“Uh huh, less than pleasant. Where the hell did you even get a whole ladder?”

Feyre shrugged, “Tarquin, the maintenance guy, and I are pretty cool.”

Alis rolled her eyes. “You guilt-tripped him with the cancer card.”

“Works every time,” Feyre looked satisfied with herself. 

“Yeah, well, next time guilt him into supervising you too.”

As their short exchange came to a close, Alis’s face lit up, “I see you met our newest resident, Rhysand.”

Feyre gave me another glance. “If you count meeting as found him staring at me then sure.”

Rhysand felt his cheeks and neck heat as the embarrassment that that is literally what he did set in. 

“Sorry,” he began to sputter, “I-I heard the music and just ended up in here, I’m sorry, I swear I wasn’t trying to be a creep.”

Feyre gave him a playful smile and held out her hand.

Rhys hesitated only a moment before taking her smaller hand into his. 

Instead of usual, mundane introductions, Feyre ripped off the bandaid. 

“So, you’re dying too?”

Rhysand’s stomach didn’t drop as he heard the raw words, he felt weirdly at peace in her presence.

“That’s what they tell me.”

Alis cleared her throat, “I hate to interrupt this heart-warming exchange but I was actually here to grab Rhysand for a moment.” 

Feyre tore her gaze from Rhys. “Oh, okay,” her shoulders slumped a microscopic amount. 

Quickly, Rhysand found himself being led down the hallway, the calm aura dissipating. He wasn’t fully listening as Alis explained that they needed to draw a little more blood, his mind just kept wondering back to you know who.

He tried to focus his attention to his hands as he always did when getting blood drawn when he noticed: a smear of charcoal had been left across palm.

His lips tugged up at the corners ever so slightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry it's like lowkey super cliche but bear with me.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey luvs, so sorry it has been a second, i've just been super busy with school. but anyway here's another chapter, i know its not much feysand interaction yet but it does say slow burn in the tags. i wanna build the relationship ya know.

Feyre hadn’t talked to Rhysand since they had met a couple of days ago, but his eyes seem to have taken up a permanent residence in her mind. That much was evident by the sheer number of various shades of blue and even violet colored pencils that were surrounding her on the beanbag in the corner of her room. She could never get the combination of colors to look quite right though, she itched to go and make him sit down for her just so she could study the colors that make up his eyes. 

Luckily, the sane part of her mind that kept reminding her just how creepy swatching the colors of a stranger’s eyes was held her back from doing such a thing. But no matter how much she reprimanded herself in her mind, her infatuation with him didn’t cease. There was just such a depth to him that reeled her in. 

Okay, maybe it also had to do with the fact he was absolutely beautiful. He was the kind of guy she could see in the grocery store who’s too gorgeous to approach but would definitely mourn the thought of probably never seeing again in her life once she left.

She had hoped to attempt to talk to him, to get a better feel for him, but had yet to find the right time. Alis had refused to tell her much about him, only saying that his cancer had relapsed and that was why he was here in the ward. Her heart fell when Alis told her that. Feyre knew that pain and wanted him to know she understood, that he wasn’t alone. But it was also the fact that she knew his pain that kept her from reaching out. He needed time to process without her bothering him, he needed his space to breathe and come to terms with it so Feyre made sure to maintain her distance for the time being. Maybe he’d even come to her.

She smiled at the thought. 

\---

Rhys woke up to the fluff of a pillow hitting him in the face repeatedly, he opened his eyes immediately, a little dazed, a little panicked; standing over him was just his ass of a friend, Cassian.

Cassian peered down at him with his signature shit-eating grin, his hair pulled back in a messy bun of sorts.

“Wakey, wakey, sleeping beauty,” he basically sang.

“It’s like fucking 6am, what are you doing?” Rhys rolled his eyes.

“We are getting your sorry ass out of bed and down to Rita’s for some breakfast,’’ he responded.

“At 6am?”

“Gotta get it while it’s hot,” Cassian claimed as he turned around and started picking through clothes in Rhysand’s bags that he had yet to put away. “Mor, Az, and Amren are down waiting in the car. The nurse lady only let one of us come get you because it’s technically not visiting hours.”

“Right and it seemed appropriate to send the loudest one they could?”

“Don’t act like you’d rather wake up to anything besides my face,” Cass batted his eyelashes for emphasis. 

For some odd reason Feyre’s face flashed through his mind. 

He would be lying if he said he hadn’t at least thought about her, the image of her atop that ladder radiating ethereal beauty never entirely left his head. He was even a little disappointed when that streak of charcoal dissipated.

Cassian throwing a pair of dark jeans and a black t-shirt interrupted his mini pining session. “Come on, get dressed. I’ll be in the hall.”

Rhysand huffed as he departed from his warm cocoon.

\---

Rhys, Mor, Cassian, Azriel, and Amren sat outside on the trails with their takeout breakfast tacos from Rita’s wrappers scattered around them on the benches. 

“Okay, seriously, why did you make us wake up at 5:30am for Rita’s breakfast just for us to get takeout?” Amren questioned Cassian.  
“Just eat your taco. I asked them to put extra children’s tears in it just for you, little one.”

“Call me little one again and I’ll nail your balls to that tree, you brute.”

The way Cassian cautiously crossed his legs escaped no one’s notice. 

The group had mostly returned to their normal dynamic, Cass being loud and making jokes, Mor giggling, offering her own sarcastic retorts, Rhys mostly laughing, watching, and adding to the conversation at times. Azriel continued his usual observing, letting out small smiles occasionally while Amren went back and forth between scowling and telling off Cassian. 

At the moment, Mor and Cassian were arguing over who got to eat the last taco, “Mor I am literally three of you put together.”

“And? A girl’s gotta eat.”

Cassian and Mor continued their pointless bickering, each swiping the taco out of the other’s hand and chasing each other around the benches. Rhys’s stomach hurt from laughing at their antics. He was feeling good again.

He found himself looking back up at the hospital towering over the little park, maybe to ground himself, it served as a reminder that this isn’t his whole reality anymore. He is still sick and one day Mor and Cassian will be running after each other without him around to watch. 

Mor’s breathless giggles and Cassian’s obnoxious shouting faded into the background as he began to get sucked back into that blackhole that had started growing again when he heard his most recent prognosis. It wasn’t an unfamiliar blackhole, he knew it well, but it had become so miniscule as his life returned to what it should be. But even in space it’s hard to make blackholes truly disappear. 

That’s when Rhys noticed her. A flash of golden-brown hair reflecting the fresh morning sun’s rays. She was sitting on a light wooden stool in front of an easel, her position pivoted at an angle to face out the window. He could make out the back of a white canvas sitting on the easel and a paint palette balanced in one of her hands. At such a distance he couldn’t make out her face fully, but he just knew it was her in his heart. He could almost imagine her face, her nose scrunched up in concentration as it was in those brief moments he saw her focused on hanging up sketches. 

Maybe she even had a paint stain on her cheek. 

Once again, she brought him back as he began to sink. 

Rhys wasn’t even sure how long he just stared at her, observing her in her own little world, wholly focused on the painting in front of her. She would swipe her brush around and then pull back, studying what she had done before going back in. He might’ve been content just watching her for hours.

“WHAT THE FUCK, CASS!”

Rhys’s attention was drawn behind him to Cassian frantically shoving a whole taco in his mouth while Mor fumed behind the bench parallel to Cass. 

“You’re such an ass, Cass. You’re an asshat, that's what you are. Asshat Cass.”

Amren raised her brows at that. “Asshat Cass does have a nice ring to it,” she observed, picking at her nails feigning disinterest. Mor just huffed and crossed her arms, but never broke the skank eye she gave Cass who only smirked in return. 

“Oh, I’ll get you for that one, Mor,” Cass grumbled, his mouth full of taco.

Rhys allowed himself one more glance at the girl in the window. This time though, he could’ve sworn she was looking back. 

“How about Mor the bore? Snory Mory?” He suggested. 

Rhys gave a little smile just in case, perhaps, she was actually staring right back. 

“Wait, I know, Mor the whore!” Cassian exclaimed with a dramatic hand gesture. 

No one even noticed Rhys’s utterly distracted state, hopelessly entrapped by the angel in the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoyed it! please leave comments too, i love feedback!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry, it has been a hot second since i have updated any of my stories i've just been really busy with school but don't worry i'm still alive. also i'm taking prompt requests on my tumblr @cloudywriter so if you have any feel free to leave them there, i also have some nessian prompt one-shots on there too i wrote. anyway, i hope you enjoy this chapter it's not my fav but it's alright.

God, he’s stupid hot Feyre deemed one early Monday morning as she sat across from the boy in question, doodling aimlessly in her sketchbook. She was stretched across a poorly cushioned dark blue chair, her back against one armrest and her legs dangling off the other.

They were both lounging in the common area nestled in their hall between a few rooms for long term patients usually suffering from some form of cancer or other terminal disease. The rooms were almost always empty which Feyre knew was a positive thing but it did get lonely. She was so often isolated, only the occasional patient coming and going, not that they were usually in her age group anyway. 

But to have someone here who appears to be around her age with a similar diagnosis to her own and a boy, nonetheless, it was almost fate. Still, whenever Feyre embarked down that train of thought she would always stop herself, she should not be happy in the slightest that another human being is here to suffer as she is. At least while he was here though, she wanted to get to know him, she was deprived of relationships in her life. Her sisters were away at college now and Lucien was starting his freshman year at university as well. Feyre had been left behind, her diagnosis came late sophomore year and she had barely managed to graduate high school with her extensive hospital stays and endless treatments that left her feeling halfway to the grave. With her oncologists wanting her to take up residence in the hospital and her cancer yet to have much of a response to her treatments trying to attend college would’ve been a futile feat. 

Here he was sitting in the same less than comfortable blue chair right across from her yet Feyre couldn’t bring herself to speak up. She kept telling herself she just didn’t want to interrupt his reading but really she wasn’t sure what to even say especially when the first thing she’d said to him was are you dying too. Why she had blurted that out of all things was beyond her. 

Instead, she let silence continue to fill the space between them. Her pencil moved across the page in short, quick strokes the form of the boy in front of her taking shape in the corner of her paper. She outlined his sitting stance, his legs spread, his upper body leaning back into the chair, his elbows on the armrests, one arm raised a finger resting against his temple, and the other holding his book out in front of him. Feyre only messily sketched his silhouette before moving her pencil to another part of the page and zoning in on his face.

She drew his face as it was contorted in concentration, his dark brows slightly furrowed and his lips were set in a straight, serious line. Feyre thought he would look rather intimidating if it weren’t for his eyes, they weren’t hard like the rest of his face, they were still soft just quizzical, accessing and a brazen blue contrasting with his bronze complexion and midnight black locks. 

So she let herself sketch him, the artist in her appreciating the structure of his face and the color in his palette. She carried on with her quick depictions of him around her page at one point drawing only the hand that held his book, he did have nice hands she thought. 

When she was satisfied with her collection of doodles she stuck her pencil behind her ear, an old habit, and opened her mouth to finally speak. Of course, at that exact moment, Alis breezed into the common area with a tray of pudding cups, jello cups, and packets of plastic utensils in her hands. 

“Do either of you want a little snack? Jello? Pudding?” Alis offered, holding up the tray. 

Rhysand looked up from his book towards Alis but the idea of a snack was what was on Feyre’s mind right now, not Rhysand anymore.

“Do you have vanilla pudding?” Feyre asked. Alis sighed. “No, someone is always eating them all up,” she informed Feyre, putting emphasis on the someone. “I can give you jello though or chocolate pudding.”

Feyre wrinkled her nose, not a fan of either option especially jello. Alis knew this and turned to Rhysand instead, lifting the tray in question.

But Rhysand turned his attention to Feyre, noting her reaction to the idea of eating jello. “You don’t like jello?” 

“No, horrible texture,” Feyre answered, taking the pencil from behind her ear and putting it back to her page, adding random shading to her sketches. 

“Well, I would love a green jello cup,” Rhysand declared. Alis plucked the jello from her tray and handed it over.

Feyre’s face must have morphed showing her obvious disgust because Rhysand looked back at her with a smile. 

“What?”

“It’s one thing to willingly choose to eat jello but it's a whole other thing to then proceed to pick the worse flavor to eat too,” Feyre pointed out.

“Says the girl who likes vanilla pudding over chocolate,” Rhys scoffed. 

“Do you have something against vanilla pudding?”

“Yeah, it tastes like plastic.”

Feyre shrugged, “maybe a little.”

Rhysand gave her a smile, it wasn’t a big smile but it was enough to get Feyre’s heart to do a double take. “So you admit to enjoying the taste of plastic?”

“As long as it has a hint of vanilla of course,” Feyre clarified. 

“Hm, plastic with a hint of vanilla, noted.”

Alis had shown herself out at some point in their small exchange leaving Rhys with his jello cup. 

“I didn’t get a spoon,” Rhys commented. 

Feyre raised an eyebrow, eyes still on her paper as she continued her shading. “Slurp it up, I won’t judge.”

“Do you promise?” Feyre met Rhysand’s eyes, amusement sparkling in them. 

“I promise,” Feyre held out her pinky. 

Rhys ripped the top off the cup and extended his pinky wrapping it around Feyre’s own, her hands dwarfed compared to his. “Alright,” he said coolly. 

Feyre felt the slightest of blushes rising in her cheeks. Rhysand leaned back in his chair and tipped his head back.

“God, that is too gross.” 

“It’s good though,” Rhysand responded. 

Feyre let loose a little smile and shook her head, focusing her attention back onto her drawings. 

“Are you sure you don’t want any?” Rhys asked, extending the jello cup forward and jiggling it the green gelatin wiggling in turn. 

“I’m sure but thank you for the kind offer,” Feyre reiterated, her voice filled with sarcasm. 

At some point, Feyre had retired to her room giving up on the prospect of having a real conversation with Rhysand for the day. It was only later that night there was a soft knock on her door, Feyre slid off her bed and opened the door a crack. The hall was empty. 

She was about to close her door again convinced her mind was playing tricks on her but she noticed the red top of a pudding cup down by her feet. Just outside her door, a vanilla pudding cup had been left. 

She smiled and reached down, taking the cup from the floor. Alis must’ve left it she determined.

**Author's Note:**

> okay, this chapter is super short but it's really just a quick prologue normal chapters will be much longer i promise. anyway hope you like it so far and please leave comments bc i love them and you know give some suggestions too if you'd like!


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